


Fantastic Beasts and Where to Adopt Them: Senior Creature Sanctuary

by edelweissroses



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Company Man Credence, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Magic Exists but It's Much More Public, Modern AU, Old Friends Senior Dogs Sanctuary AU, Potentially Multi Chapter, Rich Man Credence, Senior Creature Sanctuary Owner Newt, Seriously SO MUCH Fluff You'll Want To Punch a Wall to Feel Like A Man, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 02:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16358627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edelweissroses/pseuds/edelweissroses
Summary: Based off of charlesthewildcardkelly's Tumblr post:"concept: old friends senior dog sanctuary but it’s newt scamander and his fantastic beasts"Now featuring crewt!!!





	Fantastic Beasts and Where to Adopt Them: Senior Creature Sanctuary

Credence didn’t know when it’d started.

That’s what he’d _like_ to say because that’s how all stories like this should go, shouldn’t they? Innocent interest delving into confusing feelings leading into something totally unexpected, way before he could realize what was happening.

But no, he remembered exactly when this obsession began.

September. A couple months earlier.

Credence had been lounging comfortably in his favorite coffeeshop Common Grounds Café with a, frankly, sinfully delicious cappuccino cupped between his scarred hands, sprinkled with just a touch of freshly ground cinnamon on top. It had been raining all afternoon – typical English weather – so the well-crafted foamy drink warmed his chilled bones as much as the oversized maroon sweater he’d pulled out of his backpack.

He had promptly sat down in the quietest, darkest corner of the café – appreciating the undisturbed solitude and perfect people-watching view – and casually pulled out his tablet, scrolling through his WitchBook feed.

He pulled his way-too-long-for-his-liking, scrawny legs up against his chest and rested the silver tablet between them, blowing softly across his cappuccino before taking a slow slip.

Updates on the latest American Quidditch match immediately caught his attention and he was thrilled to discover that his favorite team – the Sarasota Skunk Apes – had won against all odds. The Florida underdogs were heading to nationals, taking the entire country by storm, to compete for their right to play in the World Tournament.

Good for them.

Credence continued scrolling through his feed.

The new food vlogger he’d followed had posted a step-by-step recipe of her family’s famous chili and right underneath it was a political takedown post about his father’s recent choices—

He quickly clicked on the post about the chili.

But even as Cheryl Charlie Cheerly described how to find the best tomatoes for oven-roasting, Credence found himself – much to his chagrin – distracted.

Corvus Lestrange had never really been a father to him.

And he meant that literally.

Credence had apparently been Corvus’ lost forgotten son kidnapped from his dying mother’s arms when she had been visiting family overseas by a religious zealot. Underneath Mary Lou’s stern rule, he had grown up knowing nothing about the outside world except for the Bible and the Divine Word of the Lord.

It was only after an impressive Obscurial burst leveling half of New York that the magical community had rediscovered the Lestrange’s missing heir and Credence had been promptly whisked away from everything he had ever known into the care of a family he knew nothing about.

And if that wasn’t nearly enough, this overly-sheltered soul had inherited a legacy he had never wanted and oodles of money that he never knew what to do with.

Having grown up poor, he just wasn’t used to needless spending.

Dining on expensive caviar sprinkled with edible gold and the finest imported French wines every night seemed too luxurious. Hiring maids and butlers and chefs and limo drivers seemed pointless expenses. Needing all of the latest clothing styles and the fastest brooms despite never using them more than once to flaunt them off seemed wasteful.

Credence was content with just having an apartment to call his own, enough food on the table to never go hungry, and an actual fireplace to keep him warm during those cold, winter nights.

So, resulting from the social pressures to integrate his son with his company while also compensating for his _… predispositions_ , Credence had been inducted as the head of the charity division of Lestrange Enterprises. Despite not knowing much about the business world, Credence had quietly embraced his role. Always on the lookout for new places to throw money at. Always searching for struggling people to save.

Perhaps this way, Credence could become the Guardian Angel he’d always wanted.

That’s when he’d found it.

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Adopt Them: Senior Creature Sanctuary._

Before he knew it, Credence had opened up his FundFriend App and made a sizable donation.

Anonymously, of course.

Charitable contributions coming from his own bank account differed greatly from making it from the company’s accounts. Far less people to run the idea through. A lot less publicity. As a private citizen, Credence could just support whomever he wanted without worrying about the media spotlight shining down upon him.

Besides, how could he have resisted those soulful midnight black eyes of the Niffler and his salt-and-pepper fur, wrapped in a yellow-and-gray scarf so incredibly large that it seemed like he was drowning in comfort and bliss.

And the title:

_Sweetpea: Honorary Hufflepuff_

Oh, it just warmed his heart more than any delicious cappuccino ever could.

From that rainy day forward, it had become an obsession – an _addiction._ With every new post, picture, and update, came another large anonymous donation.

Snidgets nesting in emptied Jack-o-Lanterns in October? Another donation. Hippogriffs sleeping on their backs with their tongues lolling out and toes twitching in November? Another donation. Chupacabras wearing snazzy Santa hats in December? Another donation.

Thousands upon thousands of Galleons transferred from his account into theirs.

Credence had initially been in it for the creatures. Seeing all the renovations and improvements to their homes and all the much-needed care he’d funded and how’d they’d enjoyed them warmed his heart. The nameless owners of the sanctuary thanked their mysterious benefactor once they’d figured out what was going on and would update even more frequently with what they’d done with his money.

A new sweater for Mashed Potato the Opaleye Dragon.

Fluffy pillows to sleep on for Sweetpea the Niffler.

Diabetes medication for Tofu the Hippogriff.

Every charming update brought him joy. Every lovable picture made him smile. Every creature he helped and every payment he sent filled a little more of that hole in his lonely heart and made life feel just a bit more bearable.

And then came the _incident._

Credence had been scrolling through his WitchBook feed after a long day managing funds at his father’s company when a notification popped up at the corner of his screen saying that the sanctuary had a new post.

Expecting cute pictures of creatures, he naively pressed on it.

And came face-to-face with a ridiculously freckled man with a dopey grin and the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen cradling a Bowtruckle to his chest.

_Pickett refused to leave Mummy’s side today. Had to bribe him with blueberries back onto his perch._

Credence quickly pulled up his FundFriend app and made another donation, his cheeks tinged pink and heart pounding inside his chest.

He hadn’t understood what it was at first.

No, that’s another lie.

He had understood exactly what was going on but refused to acknowledge it.

Somehow, without his conscious will or permission, what began as an innocent sponsorship of a wonderful adoption agency and elderly creatures sanctuary turned into something _more._ Something he couldn’t put a word to but was always on the tip of his tongue.

And he started including notes on every donation.

Made his presence known without ever once giving his name.

He inquired about the Bowtruckles and Occamies. He commented on how well the new pen renovations were looking. He asked about the Kelpie they’d recently adopted out and the new Cockatrice that they’d subsequently brought in.

And then, he’d asked about the owner.

And to Credence’s surprise, he responded.

Through every charming update and adorable photograph, every question he had the courage to ask had been answered.

The primary owner – the man with the freckled face and dopey grin – was named Newt and he ran the sanctuary with his older brother Theseus. Newt was more hands-on with the creatures, providing them care and comfort, along with the exclusive management of the WitchBook page while Theseus worked more behind the scenes.

Credence had discovered that Newt had come from a firm magizoology background, pioneering research and thrusting the field into popularity, before eventually deciding to develop the creature sanctuary for the elderly and infirm. He had first developed a love for fantastical beasts after being raised on his mother’s Hippogriff farm and helping creatures had been his passion ever since.

Credence followed these rare updates like wildfire, that not-so-mysterious feeling he refused to acknowledge growing with every update.

He wanted to know more.

Wanted a better connection with Newt but…

He was the infamous Corvus Lestrange the 5th – heir to Lestrange Enterprises.

His name was too easily recognized and held rather unsavory connotations depending on who you talked to. Furthermore, his own face was almost just as recognizable as his name for the Obscurial attack that had literally flattened half of New York and resulted in the deaths of so many people. Of course, he had been formally pardoned of all crimes for his unique circumstances and famous name but…

This was too complicated.

He shouldn’t even be thinking about this.

And yet, late one January evening in his office after everyone had already gone home for the night, Credence pulled up the WitchBook log-in screen and signed in underneath his anonymous account. His scarred fingers – reminding him of the life he once had – hovered over the keyboard.

He took in a deep breath.

And opened up the chat window for the _Senior Creature Sanctuary_ and typed out:

_Hello._

Not even two seconds later came a response.

**Good Evening! Are you interested in adopting one of our senior creatures or sponsoring the sanctuary?**

Credence smiled, cheeks turned pink.

_If you wanted me to add an extra zero to my donations, Newt, all you needed to do was ask._

**_ashdFASGDHagsdhfjhkj_ **

_Are you okay?_

**Yes! Yes! Perfectly fine. I just uh… banged my head against the computer.**

Credence blinked, fingers hovering yet unable to dictate a response to such…

Cuteness.

**But, nevermind that! It’s you! I’m so sorry I didn’t realize. Thank you so much for your contributions. We here at the Senior Creature Sanctuary really appreciate your sponsorship.**

Credence smiled and shook his head.

_It’s my pleasure. I see that Green Bean is enjoying her new pen._

**Oh yes – very much so! Far more field for her to work out those old bones of hers.**

_I’m glad._

Credence hesitated for a moment before adding:

_And you? Are you doing well?_

**Me?**

_Erm yes. You post a lot about the creatures – which I enjoy – but I rarely hear about you unless I ask. Why is that?_

**Oh.**

Credence feared that he’d crossed the line.

**I just feel that… I suppose, I’m not that interesting. You see, I’m just so passionate about my creatures and I rarely get to talk about them with others that appreciate them like I do. Whenever I’m online, I’m immersed in a community of my peers and sometimes I feel that… well, I’m not as well-composed in real life. I’m quite an embarrassing fellow, really.**

_Neither am I. Neither is anyone._

**You underestimate my ineptitude.**

_Is that a challenge?_

Credence pursed his lips together, fingers flying faster than he could possibly process what he was about to offer.

_Meet me at Common Grounds Café this Saturday at 3:30 PM. Back corner by the bookshelf. There should be two booth seats._

**You live here, oh mysterious benefactor? How come I never knew that?**

_You never asked._

Credence laughed typing with one hand now as the other was occupied with covering his face.

_And this is our first actual conversation._

**O-oh… right. Silly me.**

_You’re so cute when you’re flustered._

**Hey! I’ll have you know that I am not cute whatsoever. I’m a bumbling hopeless mess of a wizard, thank you very much!**

_Hmm, I suppose our date on Saturday will determine that._

Credence’s face flushed darker than the crimson tie he had decided to wear that day. Where was this confidence coming from? He never flirted with anyone. Never.

**…date?**

_Erm, I mean…_

**Are you trying to become my, oh what’s the phrase, Sugar Daddy?**

_NO! No, that’s not what this is._

Credence’s face was hotter than a blazing inferno now and he was so thankful that he had the relative safety of being behind a screen because otherwise he’d likely be making even more of a fool of himself in his complete, utter embarrassment.

**Because I am most assuredly not into you giving me money for my creatures in exchange for favors.**

_Newt, I’ve been supporting the sanctuary even before I knew who you were, and I’ll continue to support it because I think the work you’re doing is fantastic. Seeing those animals happy and cared for makes me happy. I just…_

**You just…?**

_I wanted to know you outside this context. Not as benefactor and recipient but as me and you._

**I don’t even know your name.**

_I’m afraid you’ll judge me if I told you._

**And yet we have a date next Saturday.**

Credence’s heart froze.

_Is that you accepting said date?_

**I… I haven’t determined that quite yet!**

_Okay, okay._

And yet Credence couldn’t help himself but smile, a hundred butterflies bursting through his stomach at each and every response.

**So, are you going to tell me your name, mysterious benefactor?**

Was he? Could Credence possibly reveal such a private part of himself? Sure, they were (hopefully) going to meet and seeing his face might just make dear, sweet Newt put two and two together and _oh god_ what if this was a horrible decision leading to catastrophe?! What if he didn’t like him? What if he recognized the family he belonged to or his exploits in New York and fled? What if he went to the public?

_Credence. My name is Credence._

**I don’t recognize it.**

_The public knows me by a different name. But, I consider this one more me._

**Then it’s very nice to meet you, Credence. I look forward to our date this Saturday.**

Somehow, as he signed off for the night and grabbed his briefcase with the giddiest of smiles, Credence knew that everything would be just alright.

**Author's Note:**

> After the gut-wrenching events happening in my main FBAWTFT fic Green Meadows, Dark Skies, writing good ole wholesome fluff has been such a BLESSING. This might end up turning into a short multi-chapter fic, it might not - so I hope you enjoy this regardless!
> 
> Please leave your comments and constructive criticisms below, my darlings!!!


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